You cling upon the round lips of your brown bottle when I asked, “how do you feel?” A thick fog blurs the small space between of bodies—your presence becomes cosmic and out of the galaxy we both built. I chew on my nails because I cannot swim in your cold aurora. I let out little trails of my rattled breaths.
The glass shards kiss the brown walls and you curl your fingers. “If you can just let me in…”
“I want you out.” You whisper and I shut my eyes to hide my defeat.
Sometimes, I wish I can give you what you need.
WORD COUNT: 105
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.